


Bad Impressions

by ScribeOfRemedy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Bad Acting, Canon-Typical Violence, Feelings, Gen, Hurt and not much comfort, More angst, Prompt Fic, Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-08-11 19:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRemedy/pseuds/ScribeOfRemedy
Summary: We all know Ardyn is the world’s worst actor. (“Sycophancy” said Noct never) But someone else in the party DOES naturally talk that way. Ardyn’s natural similarities to Ignis make Ignis easy to pose as. The boys don’t leave Altissia with Ignis at all.





	1. Prompto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScribeOfRhapsody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRhapsody/gifts).

> A prompt for ScribeOfRhapsody. Happy suffering >:D

Prompto figures it out too late.

He’s been spending a lot of time around Ignis since the accident, doing his best to help him adjust to his condition in any way he can – not that he’s much help really. After all, Ignis didn’t just lose his eyesight in Altissia. Cooking, driving, planning ahead, all the everyday, incredible things they’d sorta taken for granted are now crashing down around their feet as they scramble to fill Ignis’ impossibly big shoes. Everyone’s struggling to cope and Ignis… Ignis isn’t really the same. The capable confidence he’s always proudly worn has all but evaporated and cynical acceptance has creeped up in its place. There’s only so much Prompto can do about any of that.

But he’s _trying_.

And if his friend is a little more caustic with his remarks, a little less kind in his demeanor, well, Prompto can hardly blame him. Ignis is hurting and at least this way Prompto can tell himself he’s good for something.

It’s not like he can resolve anything between Noct and Gladio right now. He’s already tried and they made it pretty clear his input is not appreciated. So he limps back to Iggy’s side, tail between his legs, pretending not to feel like the most pathetic waste of space in all of Eos as they come up on Cartanica.

* * *

The trek to the tomb doesn’t go well. Noct and Gladio are at each other’s throats again by the elevator before they head down. Nobody tries to stop them.

The tension becomes palpable in the mine. Gladio snaps at Noct every few minutes or so and Noct barks back with equal venom. Ignis follows along behind them, face pinched in a forcefully blank expression that’s painfully fake. Prompto kinda hopes he’ll speak up soon and put an end to all the bickering. Noct and Gladio would surely listen to Iggy, he thinks.

Because, in spite of Gladio’s reservations on bringing him down here and the constant digs at Noct for getting more than three feet ahead of them, Ignis is doing remarkably well in this miserable environment made up of muddy slopes and knee-deep pools of questionable green muck for not being able to see where he’s going – he doesn’t even slip once.

Maybe his eyes are healing faster than they thought.

* * *

_The Little Shop of Horrors_ monster almost does them in.

It comes outta nowhere, nearly biting Noct in half with a face full of teeth. Their weapons don’t seem to even leave so much as a scratch and before they can put together any kind of plan the eggs start hatching.

The battle turns into an uncoordinated tangle of wild swings, poisonous gas, way too many teeth and lots of cursing. It’s like all those months fighting by each other’s sides never even happened. They would’ve had to call a retreat if Ignis hadn’t figured out how to kill the big one, irritatedly reminding Noct he has magic at his disposal, _use it_. Noct compiles, tossing his last fire flask and getting them all a little toasty around the edges – but it works. The monster goes down in flames and they find the royal tomb in what has to of been the worst ancient real estate venture this side of Ravatogh. After all that horribleness, Prompto thought anyone would’ve been too exhausted to keep arguing. Boy, is he wrong.

The trip back up to the station is filled with even more yelling and once they make it to their cabin on the train Noct and Gladio storm off in opposite directions. Prompto has never been so selfishly relieved for a moment of quiet peace. He’s oh so tempted to curl up in the corner of one of the scrawny, too thin bunks and just exist until they hit their next stop.

But Ignis hasn’t said a word since they left the tomb, so Prompto swallows the hollowness sticking in his throat and attempts to sound like his usual, upbeat self. “You, uh, doing okay there, Iggy?”

Ignis gets that weird expression on his face, like he can’t quite decide what to do with his mouth, before he settles for a placating smile. “Yes, quite alright, Prompto.”

He sounds a bit miffed when he says it though, and Prompto should really try to get more details out of his ailing friend, so he shoots for a different angle. “Oh, good. Hey, you want me to take a look at your shades, check for smudges?” Because he knows they have to be filthy after stumbling through that gross swamp of a mine, and Iggy always likes his glasses spic and span.

Ignis frowns. “Ah, hardly worth the effort, don’t you think? A little dust is of no real concern if it can’t actually be seen. Besides, a slight loss in clarity is trivial at best, though, it does stir one’s appreciation for what once was, even if my vision was abysmal before. Now there’s no strength of prescription that can correct this.”

Prompto has only a heartbeat to feel his insides twist at Ignis’ uncharacteristic and blunt dismissal of his offer before he’s sucker-punched by a particular memory from before Altissia – back when the four of them were all on the road together, unscathed and whole. It had been a blazing hot, sunny day, the kind Gladio liked to tease them on about how much cooler it would be without a shirt. The chancellor had been with them, though they hadn’t known his identity at the time. They’d been driving up to the Disk so Noct could face the Archaean and there had been worries that his camera might melt in the harsh temperatures, but then he had wondered…

“_Hey, Iggy. Can your glasses take the heat?”_

_It didn’t take Ignis long to consider the question. “Well, I don’t see why they shouldn’t.”_

_Noctis piped up from the backseat. “Even if they couldn’t, he’d still be alright.”_

“_Yeah, Iggy’s eyes ain’t that bad,” Gladio added._

“_Oh, really?” Prompto had been more than a little surprised. His eyes were terrible. He’d had no choice but to make due with a clunky pair of glasses until he’d finally gotten contacts in high school and he’d never looked back. _

“_My vision is passable without corrective lenses,” Ignis conceded._

_And maybe Prompto should have just let it drop but then he was curious. “Then why not take ’em off sometimes?”_

_Ignis actually fidgeted a little at the question. “Well…”_

“_You don’t get it, huh?” Noctis interrupted._

_And Gladio jumped in with, “Ignis likes his world to be crystal clear,” stating it like it was a fact of life._

“_Indeed. I’ve never been one for ambiguity,” Ignis explained. _

“_Ah, I think I’m getting the picture now.”_

And suddenly Prompto’s feeling sick for an entirely different reason. _Oh, oh geez._

“Oh, um – yeah, gotta go find Noct. Someone should probably check on him, right?” He tries to act casual, sliding off the bunk and inching toward the door with a (not) panicked look on his face, as if Ignis or whoever this really is could actually see his expression – except, somehow, they notice anyway.

The impostor watches him coolly, imperious brow hiked up in haughty skepticism. “Leaving so soon?”

And Prompto looks up into those sightless eyes that shouldn’t be able to track his movements with such precision or stare so piercingly back into his own, suddenly aware of how wrong everything has been since they left Altissia: the snide comments, the ease of movement after being freshly blinded, the _not_ asking after Noct. But by then it’s too late.

“Such a shame, truly, but I’m afraid I can’t allow you to ruin my fun just yet.”


	2. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to see if anyone else figured it out.

Noctis can’t figure it out.

One moment he’s chasing down the snake responsible for so much pain and deception – for killing Luna. The next, he’s shoving his friend off the roof of the train.

He’s never going to forget the look of absolute betrayal on Prompto’s face.

He talks to Ignis on the phone briefly afterwards. It doesn’t help.

“_You did what?”_

“I—it wasn’t, look, Ardyn was there. He did _something_. But we have to stop the train now. We can’t leave him!” Noctis needs for Ignis to understand, like he always does.

But instead Ignis breathes out a disappointed sigh that makes Noctis feel lower than dirt, like he’s just made everyone’s lives that much harder with his latest screw up, before, _“Noctis, think about what you’re asking. Are you truly willing to jeopardize every single life aboard this train.”_

Noctis swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “But what about Prompto?”

“_I’m afraid he’s on his own.”_

* * *

Tenebrae comes and goes in a blur. Noctis vaguely recognizes Aranea speaking to Ignis and Gladio but he doesn’t pay the words any attention. She tries to talk to him too, he thinks. Something pragmatic about holding on to hope. He nods numbly, not really up to the interaction.

Somehow they must negotiate further passage on the train in spite of the daemons because next thing he knows Gladio’s pushing him back into one of the passenger cars. He still looks furious and Noctis is starting to wonder if maybe he should be. Noctis can feel the cursed ring burning a hole in his pocket.

They ride in silence till they reach the Rift and the air gets colder and colder. The windows turn ashen, caked with frost and his own breath fogs up the air. Then the train stops.

“Come on, princess. Off your ass.” Gladio yanks him out of his seat and Noctis can’t even find it in himself to growl something back for the rough treatment.

This doesn’t make Gladio any less irritable, of course. He shoves Noctis toward the door and holds out his hand, palm catching Ignis in the chest. “You sit tight. Me an’ the _k__ing_ here will take care of it.”

Noctis is only half-listening to the exchange. He doesn’t know how to feel about it, honestly, but he’s pretty sure Ignis is gonna have something to say about this plan —

“As you wish.”

— but he’s even surer Ignis wouldn’t just go along with it.

Noctis nearly slips on the ice-covered steps. Since when has Ignis ever agreed to being forced out of a fight?

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Daemons are converging on the train and it’s only him and Gladio standing in their way.

* * *

“Hey, Noct! You better get in here. Something’s not right.”

“Be there in a sec.” Noctis rubs against an ache in his shoulder as he trails after Gladio. The daemons are especially vicious tonight and they’re using a concerning amount of potions to keep up. It’s more than a little disconcerting not having to listen to Ignis fret over this little detail or really over anything recently. Come to think of it, it’s kinda bizarre.

To be fair, Noctis knows he hasn’t been… all there lately. After everything with Luna and then Prompto, he just never knew it could be this hard. But that’s no excuse for completely skipping out on his oldest friend when he needs him the most. Maybe Gladio’s right, he is just a spoilt prince who can’t see past his own problems. He should’ve been there for his friends but instead he keeps turning out to be nothing but a disappointment. That changes now.

Out of the corner of his eye he gets a glimpse of Ignis crossing between the cars. “Ignis?” But when Noctis hurries up the steps and into the passenger car there’s no one inside; it’s completely empty.

“What?” He shivers at the sudden bite in the air. _Weird, how is it getting even colder?_

Phantom tendrils of mist are seeping in, rolling over the benches and pushing past his legs with a foreboding chill. Impossibly, it looks like it’s spilling over from the next car. But he catches movement through the tiny porthole windows looking into the hall between the cars. He chases it through the door.

When he reaches the next car he’s nearly knocked right back out into the hall space. There’s an unexplainable maelstrom contained within, blowing forcefully against him and leeching his momentum. His jacket flaps angrily at his back as he tries to shield his face with bare arms that are rapidly turning numb in the burning cold. Squinting through the tempest, he can just make out a person at the other end of the ice covered isle. He fights to get closer and the further he goes the more he’s able to make out it’s Ignis standing in front of him, seemingly unphased by the surreal storm or the frigid temperatures. “Ignis, what’s going on? Where’s Gladio?”

“Oh, worried for your friends are you? I was beginning to wonder.”

Still struggling to close the distance between them, Noctis can’t quite make out Ignis’ expression yet, but he can hear the sardonic smile in his voice even over the rushing wind. It sounds wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve let quite a few of them down, you know,” Ignis continues, as if Noctis hasn’t spoken at all. “I dare say, some of them might not last much longer. Why not lend them a hand?”

The mist clears behind Ignis just enough for Noctis to make out the body sprawled across the isle between the seats and just as coated in frost as the rest of the train’s interior. “Gladio!”

Gladio remains motionless on the floor and Ignis doesn’t move aside or even react when Noctis can no longer keep his feet beneath him, instead tilting his head as if suddenly taking notice of the veritable tundra that’s surging through the train. “A coldness that can only be hers.”

Noctis follows Ignis’ sightless gaze, surprised to find Gentiana walking through the storm.

“Ahhh, the face you wore the day you –”

Gentiana doesn’t even slow her pace as she places a finger to her lips before transferring the icy kiss to Ignis’ mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence and freezing him solid.

“Ignis!” Horrified, Noctis makes to reach out, but balks when he actually gets a good look at the frozen statue standing in his friend's place. _Why does it look like Ardyn?_ “Gentiana, what?”

“Be at peace, King of Kings. I come to fulfill a promise to the oracle. Let it now be done.”

Gentiana starts to glow a silvery white, skin and hair turning unnaturally pale. Noct has to cover his eyes from the bright light, but when it fades the blizzard winds are gone and Shiva looks down on him.

Noctis gapes. “Gentiana, it’s you – you’re the Glacian.”

Shiva holds out her hands, calling forth the Trident of the Oracle. “The time has come for the Chosen to restore light unto the world. But take head, the Usurper walks among you. You must not fall to his ways of deception.”

Shiva vanishes the moment Noctis wraps his fingers around the base of the trident and warmth slowly begins to return to the air.

And it finally hits him – the sickening gravity of what’s been going on right in front of his own eyes, sapping the strength from his knees all over again. Ignis hasn’t been here and he hadn’t even noticed.

Overcome with a sudden need to move, to fight – do something – he lashes out, destroying the icy shell with Ardyn’s likeness. But it’s dissatisfying, watching the diamond dust dissolve into nothing.

He stumbles over to Gladio, his limbs quaking with the lingering cold and uncooperative. “Hey. Wake up.”

Gladio starts to rise pretty quickly, and beyond seeming a bit groggy acts otherwise okay. But even that small reassurance fades into the background as he explains what’s just happened. For a moment, Gladio is resistant to the truth, that the Ignis who’s been with them isn’t who they thought he was, but the more he talks the more Gladio looks just as agonized and ashamed as Noctis feels. It’s only after he’s finally convinced the big guy to leave his side and check on their drivers that he senses the dark presence at his back.

“Oh, _Noct_. How could you?” Ardyn may look and sound like Ignis but everything about him is so obviously wrong. The tone, the body language, all of it’s off. And Noctis never _noticed_.

“Stop wearing his face. I know you’re not him!”

“Ah, yes, to be recognized by the Glacian herself. Such is the burden of celebrity I suppose. Your attack hurt me never the less… my feelings, at least. And after all the memories we’ve shared.” Ardyn spares him a patronizing smirk before making a motion as if to place his hand over his head. Then he’s suddenly holding a worn fedora and he doesn’t look like Ignis anymore. “Well, if you’ve no need of a friendly face then there really is no point, though I must admit, I’m going to miss the advisor’s proper tongue. It’s a nice change of pace, you know, compared to all the other roles I’ve played.”

“Shut up, what do you want?” Noctis itches to summon a sword, something sharp and solid to hold between himself and whatever monster he’s staring down, even if it won’t do him much good.

“My, you’ve cut me to the quick,” Ardyn says, voice still annoyingly flippant. But then he looks into to Noctis’ eyes and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “And here I thought I’d earned the right to call you Noct.”

“Where are they? What have you done with Ignis – with Prompto!”

“The astute tactician and the little gunman are a short shot away.” Ardyn points off into the distance.

“Where?” Noctis growls, desperate. He’s not finishing this without them – he can’t.

“Where else but Gralea, the seat of the Empire? I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you, assuming of course, they can forgive you your negligence. Who knows, you might even stumble upon something misplaced of even greater value. With all these daemons about you could certainly use all the help you can get. Off you go then. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, poor everyone. Except for Ardyn. He's fine.


	3. Gladio

Gladio should have figured it out.

It’s obvious something weird is going on. He calls Noct over just as he ducks back inside the train, wanting to investigate. There’s a creeping, icy mist flooding the compartment from the back of the car. It’s starting to feel more like an icebox in here than outside with the Glacian’s corpse.

The beginnings of real concern tingles his spine when there’s no sign of Ignis. He crosses over to the next car hoping to catch sight of his friend. Then a voice comes from behind.

“I think I’ve seen enough. Time to hurry this little charade along.”

He blacks out after that and the next thing he knows he’s waking up even colder than before to find Noct shivering on the floor of the train in front of him – and that concern jumps right up into something far more uncertain and panicked.

“Noct, you alright?”

Noct shakes his head, blue lips working against the tremors wracking his frame. “He – he’s got them, Gladio. He’s got them, and who knows what he’ll do.”

Gladio tries to put a steadying hand on Noct’s shoulder, hoping the point of contact will help calm him down, help him focus. “Got who, Noct? What are you saying?”

But then Noct glares, equal parts furious and horrified he answers, “Ardyn. He took them, and he’s been playing us for fools.”

Noctis tries to explain but it just sounds like a sick joke – that some sadistic maniac with powers they don’t understand has been toying with them all this time – as if things weren’t already fan-freakin’-tastic. But Noct’s looking at him now, full of angry hurt with muscles taunt on a hairpin trigger, ready for a fight Gladio realizes – he doesn’t expect to be believed. That stings a bit, even if Gladio can’t say he doesn’t get why Noct would think that.

But for all he’s rode Noct’s ass for his outward indifference toward Ignis and his sacrifice, Gladio hasn’t given Ignis much consideration either. The silence and then spurts of sarcastic barbs had seemed so normal for someone going through that kind of loss.

Gladio didn’t stop to think that maybe Ignis deserved more credit than that.

And now they’re paying for it. Noct is in a bad way, practically drowning in guilt and worry for their friends, meanwhile, Ignis and Prompto are at the mercy of the imperial chancellor. Have they really been trapped in Gralea this whole time?

So instead of questioning it, or giving in to his own despair, Gladio builds himself up into a workable template for Noct to hold onto and he keeps moving. He agrees to go find out what’s become of Aranea’s men during the latest freakshow but hesitates just before he leaves the compartment threshold, looking back over his shoulder. “Noct, we’ll save them.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we will.”

* * *

The rest of the train ride frees up entirely too much time to think.

Gladio and Noct spend most of it huddled in the least damaged passenger car, stewing over what ifs and should’ve beens better off left alone. It’s pretty obvious they’re in way over their heads – a two-man team, even a king and his shield, storming the most critical military base in all of the Empire alone sounds like a suicide pact. But turning back isn’t an option. Never has been.

But with Ignis gone Gladio needs to step up even more and be the smart, rational one here. The creep in the hobo fedora obviously wants them in Gralea. For what reason, Gladio can’t really pin down beyond possibly walking them straight into some kind of ambush. He’s not entirely wrong.

They lose the Regalia getting into the city. And they lose their magic before they even get inside the Keep. The derailed wreckage of another express train almost crushes them – would’ve separated them if Gladio hadn’t been so bond and determined to stay glued to Noct’s side.

The daemons don’t wait for them to recover from the close call and with no weapons to defend themselves they both run for their lives. It’s not till they find a place of quiet, not-quite-safety that Noct takes out the ring.

Gladio should’ve felt some kind of pride at seeing Noct take charge and finally own up to his birthright, but instead he just feels nauseous as Noct screams, falling to his knees like the ring is sapping his life away the instant it rests on his finger. He ends up hovering, unsure what to do other than offer Noct a hand up when the fit passes. They keep moving.

* * *

Ardyn’s voice jeers at them from the intercom, efficiently herding them through the maze-like facility and headlong into droves of malfunctioning MTs. Ignoring him is easier said than done, especially when he starts bringing up Ignis and Prompto.

“_Poor Prompto must be feeling the heat right about now.”_

“_I wonder what your dear Ignis will think, after all, you hardly knew he was gone.”_

“_You better hurry, wouldn’t want to let your friends down again. This time they might not survive.”_

Noct ends up doing most of the fighting, protecting Gladio for a change. It’s not something Gladio can let stand for long and soon he salvages an axe and then later a rifle off the MT corpses. He’s not the best shot, certainly nowhere near Prompto’s league, but it’s better than nothing.

Running into Ravus is a surprise. The former high commander lies still at the base of the central elevator next to King Regis’ glaive. Evidence even points to him maybe coming around to Noct’s side in the end.

With his father’s sword in hand Noct has an easier time of it. It still takes a while, and more than a few of their dwindling potions, but they do find their friends. Noct blasts open the cell door with the ring’s magic and dives in with Gladio at his heels. What follows next is a pretty sappy round of apologies and desperate hugs in which Gladio refuses to acknowledge the lump lodged in his throat.

Getting Ignis back with his sight intact is an unexpected blessing, especially since he has the same scars Ardyn wore. Discovering Lady Lunafreya alive is even more so. Ardyn has kept this little tidbit to himself, never including her in his taunts unless in reference to her supposed demise. And that means Gladio has to be sure. He hates it, forcing Noct back a step after he’s practically thrown himself at all three of them, checking each of them over for signs of abuse and brimming with shear, unadulterated relief.

He gets a more than an annoyed look from his charge for the manhandling. “What gives?”

Gladio absolutely does not wince at the accusation in Noct’s eyes. “Just-just gotta be sure. How do we know one of them isn’t Ardyn in disguise?”

“You can’t be serious,” Noct practically growls.

But Ignis actually looks pleased with his reasoning and Gladio is nearly overcome with how much he’s missed that level head of his – always calm and dependable Ignis. He should have never mistaken someone like Ardyn for the genuine article. “A wise course of action considering recent circumstances. If Prompto and myself can prove our identities would you allow us to vouch for Lady Lunafreya?”

The oracle shoves at Ignis’ shoulder. “How many times must I reiterate – Luna will suffice.”

“Apologies.” But Ignis has that amused look on his face that means he’s really anything but apologetic. And honestly, Gladio’s already sold but he lets the man continue with a shared childhood antidote of stargazing with Noct and a particularly embarrassing training accident he helped Gladio cover up once. Prompto checks out similarly, rambling on about early morning photo sessions and late nights spent under the stars in an excitable rush of energy that Gladio’s positive Ardyn could never hope to imitate.

But before any of them can relax – let it sink it that this is real – the chancellor’s smarmy voice oozes from the intercom. _“Oh, how I adore happy reunions. Look at you all, here for the end.”_

And then there’s more daemons to deal with. Noct keeps their attention while Gladio wisely lends his salvaged rifle to Prompto and between all of them the daemons don’t stand a chance. But Gladio knows the psychopath’s still watching them, so he urges everyone along. There’s still so much left unsaid, but Gladio’s bound and determined to make sure this won’t be their last chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *joins cuddle pile*


	4. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three down, one to go.

Ignis knows.

Though, he might well have not noticed anything amiss if he hadn’t already been keeping close watch of the high commander. But his reservations for the “Ravus” who approaches them on the alter solidify as he shows obvious disregard for Lady Lunafreya’s wellbeing – the man’s sole motivation for allying himself with Ignis in the first place – ignoring his sister entirely and stalking forward with a murderous glare burning into Noct’s prone form. While Ravus has made no secret of his grudge against the Line of Lucis, his behavior is downright suspicious when paired with his earlier demand for Ignis to proceed without him to check on the status of their respective charges whilst he remained behind to handle the last wave of soldiers and MTs alone.

“Such a fetching scene set before us by benevolent providence. Though, I think it could do with a touch more _red_.”

Ignis doesn’t have much time to insert himself between the rapier’s downward trajectory and his king but he manages just in time to have Ravus’ angry sneer turned on him instead. “You would do well, I think, to stay out of this.”

“What are you doing?” Ignis pushes back with all his strength, barely forcing the false Ravus back half a step. “Who are you really?”

“My, a clever one aren’t you?” The sneer melts away, along with Ravus’ features and Ignis finds the yellow eyes of Niflheim’s chancellor staring unflinchingly into his own. “Though, I doubt if it will do you much good.”

Ignis is knocked back, tripping over Noct before he can even register the hit. Soldiers materialize from thin air, surrounding them; their cold, armored hands force Ignis first to his knees and then the ground, pressing his face down near a familiar glint of dark metal that hadn’t been there before. Meanwhile, the chancellor passes him by, kicking Noct onto his back before finally deigning to spare the oracle a glance. “Oh dear, it appears you’ve undone all my hard work. How am I to motivate the wayward king without proper incentive?”

And that’s as good as a confession from the chancellor as the cause for Lady Lunafreya’s grievous wounds – wounds that would have been fatal had Ignis not administered a curative upon his arrival. Ignis struggles against the hold of the soldiers. “Get away from them!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, you see.” Ardyn kneels in front of Noct, pulling him up by the front of his shirt, drawing him closer to the dagger held at his exposed throat. “Mistakes must be rectified.”

“No, stop!” But Ardyn doesn’t stop. And Ignis cannot stand by and let Noct die, not so long as he draws breath. So he wrenches his arm lose and makes a desperate grab for the ring, knowing the price could well be his own life – a small sacrifice to protect his king, his _brother_. Everything after that is a blur, filtered through a burning purple haze. He fights hard regardless, drawing on raw magic more potent than any he’s ever imagined, but Ardyn is never phased and eventually his time runs out.

The chancellor stands over him once he’s collapsed under the strain of the ring. “You know, I might just have a use for you, after all.”

* * *

Ignis is not expecting to wake up on the cold, dingy floor of a cell in the middle of Zegnautus Keep with Lady Lunafreya pouring her healing energy into his eyes.

His vision is cloudy at first, but it clears with time and Lunafreya does what she can, explaining what she knows of their predicament. Apparently Ardyn has taken them prisoner, though the man himself does not grant them an audience. There are no restraints but Ignis, mysteriously stripped of his access to the armiger, is unable to break them out of the cell. Rations are delivered to them regularly by MTs. Otherwise they are left to their own devices.

They remain there for some time and so they speak much of prophesies and visions.

On the day Ardyn does make an appearance he’s not alone. Prompto is freezing to the touch when he’s tossed in, shivering like mad and staring up at Ignis with such blatant disbelief it’s almost painful to witness.

“Another guest to keep you company while we await the _Chosen_’s fabled ascension.” With those parting words, Ardyn leaves them be.

* * *

As Ignis fears, Noctis and Gladio do come for them.

Prompto has filled them in as they waited. The idea of Ardyn successfully stealing his own identity is equally repulsive and horrifying to Ignis and he can only hope that Noct and Gladio have seen through whatever game the chancellor is playing.

Still, Ignis is selfishly relieved to see them both relatively unharmed, even knowing what is to come. In short order the cell is breached and Noct’s arms are around them, shaking with intense emotion. And Ignis is only just able to decipher his heart-torn words, “I thought I’d lost you” – words that could have been pointed toward any one of them, really.

He’s more shy of Lunafreya, but she welcomes his attention, returning the embrace. Ignis suspects she has been looking forward to seeing him again, even if it is likely to be the last time.

Ardyn does not give them long to catch up so they must move, all crowding into the nearest place of relative safety. And there all his findings with Lunafreya are shared. Noct learns he is destined to die.

It is not a sacrifice Ignis is willing to make, but neither is it his to give. After absorbing the information, Noct gets that determined look about him and he always has looked rather like his father when he holds his head up high. But Ignis can’t help but notice the sheen of gathered moisture in his friend’s eyes.

They’ve no choice but to continue on, with Ardyn dogging their every step. They find the source of the block on their magic – a large machine locked behind a wall of bulletproof glass and one of the facility’s code scanners. One for which Prompto holds the key.

It hardly seems like much of a revelation now, considering all they stand to lose and what is supposedly to come. For what matter are one’s origins when compared to how one chooses to define their own path? Though, it’s obvious Prompto expects little in way of acceptance, but with their reassurances and support he quickly overcomes his anxieties, regaining a little more of his old self, from before Ardyn started spreading his poison.

The chancellor saves his most ambitious trap for last, corralling them all in a spacious hanger with the partially turned high commander. Ravus is taller than last they’d seen him, towering over even Gladio with daemonic miasma bleeding from his eyes and tainting his entire left side. It pulsates with his every heartbeat.

Lunafreya’s pleas go unheeded as her brother begs for death and a difficult battle ensues.

Half daemonized, Ravus is just as fast if not faster than when he’d assisted Ignis in reaching the alter in Altissia; his blows are wild but powerful. It takes all of them to wear him down enough for Lunafreya to even get close. Ravus’ struggles only intensify as she chants to the Astrals, drawing on her healing light. But the Scourge does fade from her brother’s skin, ebbing away with every moment her hands hover over his heart – until that heart grows still.

Whatever was done to Ravus, it seems he can no longer survive without the Scourge running through his veins. Lunafreya gasps, hands clinching in unspoken anguish before she withdraws them. It’s with tangible sorrow she closes her brother's eyes.

They all stand guard like trespassing specters on the intimate moment as she whispers a prayer of farewell. Ignis is uncertain if any words can ease her pain.

It’s Noct who eventually helps Lunafreya to her feet. “Luna... I’m sorry.”

“_Well, that was rather cruel of you. And after I went to all that trouble to reunite you with your brother dearest. How disappointing. I suppose I’ll just have to provide you with company of a different sort.”_

Daemons begin to rise from the shadows before the echo of Ardyn’s wretched voice can even fade from the intercom and their numbers continue to grow by the minute. Soon it becomes apparent they will be overrun if they do not withdraw. An alarm blasts from the other end of the hanger.

“The doors, they’re closing!” Prompot shouts between the sharp reports of his pistol.

Gladio grunts with the effort of pushing back a reaper’s scythe with his shield. “Isn’t that where the Crystal is?”

“_You could still get to the Crystal If you went on your own. Your friends will have to stay behind.”_ Ardyn sounds appropriately smug as he forces their hand.

Almost on cue, larger, more powerful daemons start to emerge, iron giants and arachne joining the fray.

Ardyn’s intent is clear – Noct will never make it to the Crystal if he stays to fight by their side.

“Noct!” Ignis can’t help but call out, whether to offer encouragement or plea he stays is uncertain. He can’t help but feel this may be the last choice Noct will ever make.

“I get it; I have to do this.” Noct keeps his eyes zeroed in on the closing doors ahead. “You guys go, get to the closest city. Keep each other safe. I’ll find you again.”

For a moment, despair rolls within Ignis. But then he thinks of all he’s learned with Luanfreya, all he’s been shown. It can’t all have been for nothing. There has to be a _reason_. And Ignis knows he won’t rest, not until he finds another way, some loophole in this ancient game of fates that will spare Noct his life, but for now he will stand by his king. “We’ll be waiting.”

Noct glances over his shoulder and gives them one last meaningful look before he’s gone, warping to the far end of the hanger and just slipping past the automated doors.

The daemons don’t let up exactly after Noct leaves to join the Crystal, but they stop respawning as frequently and the four of them are able to make an escape after dealing with some of the more determined offenders.

Ignis does his best to support Lunafreya, weakened from expending her energy on her brother, while Gladio and Prompto clear the way into the night, heading for the nearest safe haven. It’s a long walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We'll be waiting." T.T
> 
> I feel really bad for Ravus in this. Poor guy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
